As the scent of rotting trees and fallen leaves reaches my nose, I remember. It has always been this way. It may look similar, but is never the same. The trees and plants grow. The seasons change. Even the lighting is different from one day to the next.
So I walk again, taking in the world around me. The same, but always different, and once more I am calmed by the simplicity.
To reach out and touch nature, despite living in a paved, commercialized world… it makes me happy, and helps me to forget all of those things that leave me feeling overwhelmed, anxious, depressed. The cars, the traffic, the people, the busyness…
This is how success is measured??? How much stuff does a person have to have to feel they belong? Only that very stuff weighs me down. I have it, and for a moment, maybe just a moment, I enjoy it – and then I feel it. Pressing on my shoulders. Pressing on my head. Driving me into the concrete ground beneath my feet, and it hurts. It really does – all this stuff I carry along with me – and why?
Do I pretend to belong in a world that causes such pain? Or do I turn my way, and send this excess to the thrift store or to the garbage, where ultimately all of this ‘stuff’ ends up.
Send it away. Let it go. I never belonged with them anyway… and find my place with the plants, and the trees, and the animals – where I always fit it.